


Coruscant Ascendant

by sian1359



Category: Andromeda, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, M/M, Ship Made Flesh, alternate Universe - Sith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-18
Updated: 2004-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 03:55:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1804354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian1359/pseuds/sian1359
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am the Ascendant's artificial intelligence, an android, the Ship Made Flesh," this new Amidala continued proudly and with an inordinate amount of emotion for something that was apparently little more than an articulated servo-mechanism.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coruscant Ascendant

**Author's Note:**

> old fic
> 
> Originally published in Force of a Different Color #2; winner of a 2004 Stiffie
> 
> If the title didn't give it away, yes in the following you will find similarities in the set-up to yet another media universe; there is little original in this following endeavor other than the arrangement of words. Nor are some of the personalities and character switches as another would have interpreted, I imagine. I'm sure other ideas have been cheerfully conscripted for this little opus too, but if so it was with subconscious intent and as homages, not to plagiarize or violate anyone's copyright or creativity.

*******

"And here is our back-up pilot” Mace Windu, Captain of the warship _Coruscant Ascendant_ , said with a broad sweep of his dark hand as the lift opened up onto the bridge. “And, well, I guess you could say his regular on-board duty is as our spiritual advisor,".

Obi-Wan politely turned his attention from Windu and his gregarious primary pilot, who was also apparently the captain of the ungainly freighter next to the berth Obi-Wan's own battered ship had been directed to in the _Ascendant's_ hold, to the other pilot. Already aware -- at least by rumor -- that most operations aboard this massive ship were by need automated, Obi-Wan was surprised to hear such a useless position as a spiritual advisor was actually being manned. He supposed it could only be expected, given that Windu claimed to be one of the long forgotten Jedi High Guard instead of just some lucky human who had happened upon a relatively intact warship last seen during the Sith-Nietzsche secession just over three hundred years ago.

'Manned' wasn't really accurate, however, he soon discovered.

It was an alien that turned from a position just left of the center seat on the bridge and had Obi-Wan taking an involuntary step back. Yet memory and the low barked interrogative from the alien in response to Windu's identification sent Obi-Wan forward in the next instant, beyond the reach of his guide. His hand was automatically reaching for his lightsaber despite being significantly outnumbered. Despite it being rendered powerless as a condition of his arrival onto the _Ascendant_ , Obi-Wan dropped his hand automatically to his lightsaber.

Not just an alien, but one of the overly large, fur-covered Wookies that had swept in during the final days of the Sith-Jedi War from somewhere beyond the then borders of the now disbanded Commonwealth's influence. Under the aegis of their dark god Fett, the Wookies had first overrun the worlds already devastated by battle, ruthlessly subjugating base-line humans and genetically-enhanced Sith alike. They'd even gone so far as to subdue nearby client-alien worlds, and it was only now, within Obi-Wan's own lifetime, that war's fortune had finally abandoned the monstrous invaders, resulting in an uneasy, unstable balance being established between the various races and worlds.

Obi-Wan ignored Primary Pilot Solo’s abortive attempt to stop him, along with Windu's warning -- or threat. Wookies had annihilated Obi-Wan's family and, in doing so, destroyed any hope he might have had of a normal home and place within Sith society even now, six years after his rescue. Finally, Obi-Wan had opportunity to kill one of the nightmares that had enslaved him for more years than he'd been free.

Only to be brought up short, not by physical means or internal security measures, but instead from a few simple, disdainful words from a voice he'd hoped never again to hear. "Oh, do stand down from the pathetic and utterly useless display of bravado, boy. As you can see, my saber works just fine. And I would relish cutting you down."

The slight electrical field from a Sith weapon similar to his own raised the brush-cut hairs away from the back of Obi-Wan's neck. Without needing to look, he knew a lightsaber was poised less than a finger's width away from ending his life. Yet even were she merely standing across the room from him instead of at his back, Obi-Wan knew his body's reactions would be the same, as his true danger came from the wielder, not the weapon.

Obi-Wan’s need to confront and defy her was actually more overpowering than his need to kill a Wookie, but, because the danger wasn’t his alone, he stayed himself. He hadn't quite managed, however, to control the flush of shame that followed her light, mocking laughter as she noticed his body's trembling from the rush of adrenalin, fear and anger that swept through him.

"Now, now," Xandria du Crion de la Palpatine, daughter of the Naboo Pride's ruling Darth and mother of the Jinn van Palpatine twins, laughed further. She glided around him, moving forward until both of their shirts began smoldering from the saber's proximity held perpendicular between them. Then leaned even closer to place a sickening if familiar and ritualistic kiss against his cheek.

"Just what have you allowed to befall my husband, boy?" she whispered into his ear.

**1.**

Just as soon as his jailer departed and the door to his cell closed, Obi-Wan Kenobi neo Airidh slammed his fist into the nearest wall. He did the bulkhead no damage, of course, nor -- more or less -- his hand. Only because he'd no doubt have need of it later. Certainly he didn't care if his action lit up some sort of sensor. He'd already lit up a dozen sensors during his abortive attempts to escape.

Furthermore, he didn’t really care if his display of temper and frustration put him at greater odds with the _Coruscant Ascendant's_ rag-tag crew. Even if this hadn’t been a ship captained by one of the reviled Jedi High Guard, and, even if he wasn't Sith-Nietzsche and thus a mortal enemy of the Jedi, he’d have their caution and distrust. It was only prudent for any captain and crew to be wary of strangers they picked up, even when answering a call of distress.

Frankly, Obi-Wan didn't give a dactarie that the crew not only didn't trust him, but now to a 'man', probably actively disliked him due to whatever lies that she-demon might have told.

For himself, he would cheerfully murder each and every one of the _Ascendant's_ crew in return, given half a chance and, had the possibility of failure not endanger his own Darth Qui-Gon Jinn von Dooku. Obi-Wan would never take such actions if they would jeopardize the treatment his beloved Qui-Gon's was receiving for life-threatening injuries.

Were he able, Obi-Wan would start with the totally unidentifiable little green alien who was still forbidding him from seeing his bondmate.

Flicking his eyes about his cell, Obi-Wan looked for something to throw as he was still not disposed to break the hand that might be useful, if not against Dr. Yoda, then perhaps for strangling the overly- jovial, overly-smug teen who was apparently Windu's engineer. Despite the ship's technology being 300 years out of date, to hear Windu boast, one Anakin Skywalker had repaired all manner of the ship's service droids and robots -- including those which had been used to thwart Obi-Wan's first escape.

For an instant Obi-Wan considered tossing his saber with its power crystals as tamed and ineffectual as he’d been rendered, at the wall. But, like with his hand, Obi-Wan was loathed to damage something so potentially necessary should the opportunity finally presented itself to use either.

And opportunity would come, if for no other reason than the not-so-veiled anger and promise in Xandia's eyes when she'd gotten her first look at Qui-Gon just before Qui-Gon had been prepped for surgery.

Resolutely putting his own memories of that image from his mind, Obi-Wan let his eyes wander further. For days now, adrenalin and frustration had been his companions. Along with the nightmares of Qui-Gon’s wounding, and further breath-stealing memories of the air scrubbers in his and Qui-Gon's ship beginning their final failure just before proximity alarms and the Ascendant's arrival had offered unforeseen hope.

He cleared his mind and let the details of his surroundings fill his inner-sight, finally lifting his lips on one side in a not-so-friendly smile for the benefit of anyone observing him. This was certainly the nicest cell he'd been in.

Undoubtedly upon commissioning, this had been a stateroom for visiting officials and diplomats for a society and ideal long dead. It held not only a bed so large that it put his and Qui-Gon's back home to shame, but it also contained a personal food replicator, and full communications and library access to the ship's computer. Not to mention several _objects d'art_ that Obi-Wan considered stealing just for the principle of the matter.

Whoever heard of someone outfitting a warship with such non-essentials?

Had Windu any sense of propriety or practicality, he should have sold off such nonessentials to help finance his foolish quest of trying to restore the Jedi Commonwealth. Words and intentions might buy dreamers and idiots, but they did nothing to command weapons and _real_ troops.

Of course, if Windu had sold off such properties, Obi-Wan wouldn't now be able to look forward to seeing how many pieces one of the sculptures would shatter into when he heaved _it_ against the wall.

"Don't do that."

As he watched the crystalline homage to some excruciatingly virtuous Jedi hero suspend itself in mid-flight, Obi-Wan was not surprised to confirm that he was under observation That the internal security field was not extended to so similarly paralyze his own movements was curious, as was the full-length holographic projection of a comely -- and angry -- young woman that abruptly appeared before him.

"I understand you are concerned for your companion, but taking your fears out on an inanimate object is unfair," the image scolded. "Unfair and wasteful," she repeated, "which is supposed to be anathema to you ever opportune and practical Sith."

"Don't believe everything that Naboo bitch might have told you," Obi-Wan snarled back to the ridiculously elaborately coifed and clothed projection. "An opportunity to so satisfactorily vent emotion is not without its own merit."

"You should try meditation or even sleeping," the girl just chided, her voice holding the same sanctimony he'd heard in Windu's and, Obi-Wan had long suspected, had been bred into all Jedi and their off-spring, just as intelligence, cunning and strength had been bred into the Sith.

"I'm not tired," he snapped before silently acknowledging how pointless it was to argue with someone who didn't even have the stomach to face him directly -- and could switch herself off to make her point.

"You're exhausted and still under the effects of the fouled atmosphere you were breathing for however long in your little craft," she corrected, sounding, if possible, even more smug than before. "Not to mention the slight burn across your chest and your elevated stress levels caused by having to seek out assistance from at least three you count as enemies. Then there is your fear and worry for your friend."

Obi-Wan realized that he was not only was he being observed, but his very bio signature was being closely monitored, apparently from the moment of his first step onto the _Ascendant's_ deck.

"And did you watch as I took my shower?" he said with his own measure of smugness and a deliberate brushing of his hand down the lean lines of his stomach and across the tight front of his leather pants. While he might not know whose genes he carried, someone had done well in breeding him. "See something there you liked and that's why you've come calling?"

"Given the trauma your body has experienced in the last forty-eight hours, I seriously doubt you'd be able to get it up even with the aid of a stimulate," she responded in a tone that was both prim and clinical, her arms crossing tightly and, incidentally – or not so incidentally he suspected -- drawing across and hiding her quite reasonable, pert breasts.

"Just who the fuck are you?" he seethed and tightened his hands into fists that longed to slap the superior expression off of her face. He’d gotten the impression from Windu that he’d been introduced to all of the Jedi's motley crew, but this little bitch had not been present. Nor was a sixth person noted in any of the tales that had surfaced after the Jedi's rumored escape from the black hole's event horizon that had first suspended the _Ascendant_ out of time.

The Sith had investigated those tales even more vigorously than had the pathetic norms and left over remnants of the Commonwealth. The threat of the return of the Jedi had rivalries and vendettas being set aside in consideration of new Sith alliances, right up until it had been learned that only one Jedi had survived the time suspension.

Obi-Wan assumed this little bit, the alien doctor, the Wookie, the Correalean pilot and the brat engineer were survivors from the salvage crew that had found the warship; when or why Xandia had come into the picture, Obi-Wan had no idea. Solo had certainly reacted proprietarily regarding the Wookie and the brat against Obi-Wan's undisguised hostility. And _someone_ had assisted returning the _Ascendant_ to useable condition. From what Obi-Wan remembered of the history of the Jedi, Windu would have felt beholden to such aid instead of demanding it as his right, and so might have offered them a promise of future riches from the Restoration to get this crew to stay.

Subterfuge, trickery and impossible promises had always been the hallmark of the Jedi, whereas the Sith offered honesty and reality, brutal though those truths might be.

Which was why any Sith's subsequent presence and apparent cooperation with this ancient enemy was unexpected. Even for Obi-Wan, Xandia’s presence was unfathomable. The last Obi-Wan had known of Qui-Gon's first wife was that she had demanded the right to raise their twins alone after Qui-Gon had abdicated his right to rule the Tatooine Pride in favor of his cousin, Plo Koon von Dooku. The disgrace from her husband's apparent weakness had sent Xandia running back to her father, Naboo's Darth, Augustine Palpatine von Sidious. Or so the rumor had gone.

Obi-Wan believed that it had been Qui-Gon's declaration of love for one who should have been only a shield mate and occasional sex partner, which had infuriated and shamed the prideful woman much more than the loss of a secondary power-base. The Naboo Pride already held the greatest numbers in progeny and controlled many of the Pride alliances, whereas the Tatooine Pride could really only claim a more direct lineage to the founder of the Sith-Nietzsche Nation, Exar Kun.

What truly mattered, however, was that both he and Qui-Gon had been more than happy to have the conniving viper out of their lives. Xandia and Qui-Gon’s union had been for political and genetic duty only, not because Qui-Gon had ever had feelings for the Naboo bitch. The only downside of their split was Qui-Gon's loss of his parental rights, thereby foregoing any ability to be involved with his children’s upbringing. Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon still felt the absence of Luke and Leia keenly.

Knowing he would never be allowed to sire his own children because of his unknown parentage, Obi-Wan had grown to love the twins, had always tried to show them extra care, and found himself missing them too. Being the sole recipient of Qui-Gon's love and attention, however, was more than fulfilling for anything missing in Obi-Wan's life and future.

With another glance at the flickering image, Obi-Wan entertained the idea that this near-child before him was one of Xandia's own sex mates. But from what he could see, she was only human. Gender didn't matter when choosing someone to satisfy lusts or by right of conquest amongst the Prides. Same gender pairings were actually preferred since no accidental conception could then conflict with the carefully engineered progeny by the Darths. Yet few Sith-Nietzsche would take up with the genetically inferior humans beyond a single encounter. Certainly one like Xandia who, with the death of her older brother, stood next in line to succeed her father as Darth, would never chance calling into account her fitness by any long-term partnering with a human. Especially by partnering with a human who sounded like one of the pompous and ponderous Jedi.

"I am Amidala," the girl said finally as if the mere name alone should mean something to Obi-Wan – and as if she’d been aware of his wandering attention. When it was obvious that he was uninformed and, even worse, unimpressed, the image frowned deeper and actually stamped her foot.

"I am the heart and mind of the _Coruscant Ascendant_ ," then came the explanation Obi-Wan hadn't really care about -- until he realized that those words had not come from the image now winking out, but instead from the all too real human standing in the opening portal behind him.

Obi-Wan spun around. She’d managed to sneak up on him, but he immediately dismissed her as much of a threat. Much more interesting and important was that the lock keeping him from Qui-Gon was disabled. Additionally, he now had a hostage to use against a hostile droid or crew member. It was only as he was being hurled back from the stiff-arm that impacted against his chest just below the burn from Xandia’s saber, that Obi-Wan recognized his error. And remembered the selective security fields, one of which he now found himself caught up in, suspended in mid air at least two feet above the deck and not more than a handful of inches away from the still floating sculpture.

"I am the _Ascendant's_ artificial intelligence, an android, the Ship Made Flesh," this new Amidala continued proudly and with an inordinate amount of emotion for something that was apparently little more than an articulated servo-mechanism.

"Ah, you didn’t have to hit his so hard, Padme," the holographic projection abruptly reappeared and, much to Obi-Wan's consternation, began arguing with her flesh-self. "You've cracked at least one --"

"Well, it's a good thing I've come to take him to Yoda in Medbay then, isn't, Sabe?"

Padme? Sabe? "I-I thought you said your name was Amidala?" Obi-Wan asked upon catching his breath and clearing his throat. What he really wanted to do was rub his chest, but could barely even breathe in the suspension field, much less move.

"We are all Amidala," a third voice chimed in, only adding to Obi-Wan's confusion. From the corner of his eye he saw the internal communication screen light up with an oversized rendering of the same young face. "But those two have further designations to make the interface with the crew easier."

"Well, would one of you Amidala's please release me?" he asked mildly. Even worse than arguing with an image that can turn herself off, was arguing with an android that could outfight even a Sith warrior.

The three _women_ paused and were no doubt conversing amongst themselves, giving Obi-Wan further evidence that although the AI shared the same computer core, they also somehow operated independently from each other.

In such a case, he could see that separate names would be useful.

As to whether treating them differently, perhaps playing upon the sympathies of one over the other, would also be useful, Obi-Wan was not as certain. The physical entity seemed more aggressive and arrogant, which in a Sith would be advantageous traits but for a Jedi -- even an artificially programmed Jedi -- would more likely create conflict and resentments. Having the ship's crew dislike or distrust him was one thing. Having the ship itself working against him would not be conducive to his cause, or to Qui-Gon's continued treatment.

Before he could wonder about the possibilities further, the field around Obi-Wan shifted and began tightening painfully, reaching the point where his ability to breathe was definitely being threatened instead of just difficult. But then the constriction of the force-field fell away completely. He rolled and managed to land in a partial crouch instead of flat on his back as no doubt she'd intended. Looking up he saw a slight flare of respect, if not also disappointment, in the Sabe manifestation's holographic eyes. In turn, he acknowledged with a nod of his head, the nature of the warning she'd given him before releasing him.

"You said that you were here to take me to Qui-Gon?" he then turned to the Padme android.

It nodded sharply but made no further move toward the door, or to letting him out. Obi-Wan buried a spike of anger and turned his head to see what she was focusing on.

Oh, the damn sculpture.

As the Sabe image had already amply proved she could monitor his physical and chemical reactions, Obi-Wan didn't bother to relax his anger or his tightly controlled stalk over to pick up the crystal. But he replaced the glass thing carefully and in the same spot he'd first removed it from, before turning to acknowledge both of the transmitted Amidalas, then fixing his attention on the Padme version.

He'd play their game -- jump through any of their hoops -- if that would get him in to see Qui-Gon. Later he'd find a way around the AI, probably through the annoying Anakin who _had_ to have had a hand in programming them. That would provide its own satisfaction.

"C3PO and R2D2 will escort you to Medbay," Padme finally said with a wave toward two more droids now visible beyond the opening. One was tall and humanoid-shaped, covered in gilt and only the barest attempt at realistic features. The other was simply a squat, silver and blue, elongated dome that balanced on a set of centered wheels.

"Both are linked to my internal security systems, so don't think about making any detours along your way," she added crossly. "Any trouble this time, and you'll find yourself locked in the brig until Ani is finished with repairing your ship and we can send you on your way."

Ani? She must mean the brat. Anakin. Who was apparently pawing through Obi-Wan's (well, Qui-Gon's), ship. Obi-Wan caught and held a deep breath, but just let it loose. Chances were that the brat would have little success in breaching their security measures. But Obi-Wan would confront Windu about it all later.

Yes, their ship needed repairs before he could get Qui-Gon away from these people, but that didn’t give them the right to perform an invasive search and seizure of his property.

***********

The arrogant personality developed for the Padme version of Amidala had been annoying. This C3PO droid was not just annoying, but also grating -- ingratiating. And so prissy that Obi-Wan had been tempted more than once to simply lose his escort. Disabling it had only set off yet more alarms. At least the R2 unit hadn't been able to speak beyond a series of beeps, tones and whistles; until the damned goldenrod then translated them, despite Obi-Wan's decided lack of interest and pleading of a splitting head.

Gratefully, the two droids refused to set 'foot' inside the doors of the Med Bay. Concerned for a moment that this might mean something important, Obi-Wan decided instead to hope that his only remaining onerous task would be convincing the miniature troll to let him see Qui-Gon.

"See the other you are here for only? For yourself you have not come to me?"

"Pardon?" Obi-Wan responded automatically with the unfailing politeness Qui-Gon had pounded into him as he had grown. Such politeness, along with his unassuming and youthful looks, served the two of them well, often disarming those who had the potential of being dangerous to their actions, livelihood or lives. Indeed, he'd just been reminded of that lesson quite painfully by his underestimation of Amidala.

So, despite the ache in his head now surpassing the one across his chest, Obi-Wan made the effort to be pleasant if not quite coherent. His initial run in with this forbidding alien had resulted in Obi-Wan being banished from the Med Bay while Qui-Gon had been treated. And that was not something he wanted repeated.

He hadn't expected new trouble, however, to come from simply trying to understand the alien. Nor did he remember having translation problems during their first encounter. But now Obi-Wan could only blink as words, more or less recognizable as Basic, held no sense of structure or context.

"Acknowledging your own injuries you are not!" To emphasize his point, the gnome thumped his gnarled walking stick against Obi-Wan's chest, compounding the bruises Padme had recently given him and reigniting his reigned-in temper.

When the other moved to hit him again, Obi-Wan shot his hand out to take the erstwhile weapon away. Only to find himself stepping back, a howl caught in his throat, and with a forearm and hand rapidly growing numb from an impact just below his elbow. Without thinking, Obi-Wan loosened his saber with his off-hand. Although he'd be unable to use it properly (and he did thumb it on in case Windu had been lying about neutralizing his crystals), he'd be damned if he wasn't going to at least block any further attack from the mad doctor’s stick.

"Fight me you will not," he was admonished harshly in return, Yoda's words accompanied by a thrust of the stick in the direction of the saber hilt and his fingers. As deceptively fast as the creature moved, however, Obi-Wan wasn't exactly slow himself. Nor was he about to be so surprised a third time.

From his standing position Obi-Wan torqued his body into a perfectly executed back flip that left him crouched two feet higher upon the nearest bed, out of reach yet in position to counter any move toward him the other might make

"Idiot Sith. Hurt _yourself_ you do."

Obi-Wan glared back, doing everything he could to ignore the spasms of pain his acrobatics had exacerbated. To his great surprise, instead of taking advantage of his weakness, the ancient one simply turned and hobbled away.

"Very well, help in healing your body, you do not need. Hurt more in your heart you do, than in your flesh," came more softly, as if it (he?) was actually sympathetic to Obi-Wan's feelings, even though so much of Obi-Wan's distress had been caused in the first place by Yoda’s actions.

"Troubled, yet still you would think only of him," was then muttered as Yoda made a show of examining several objects lying loose about the room, only to set them right back down. "Ask nicely of Yoda, thank Yoda you should, for saving your bonded."

Pressing back continued desires of homicide, Obi-Wan slowly clipped his saber back to his belt and jumped down from the bed, once more swallowing his temper, his pride -- and a gasp as again his body protested his ill-treatment of his injuries.

"Please, Yoda, may I see Qui-Gon?"

"And the thanks?" the doctor prompted with a measured look over his homespun-clad shoulder.

"He will recover fully then?" Obi-Wan countered. Yes, thanks would be offered if he must, but Obi-Wan would make sure the debt was truly earned before acknowledging it.

"Well your Qui-Gon will be," Yoda nodded.

Obi-Wan found himself believing it despite his mistrust. Indeed so profound was his relief, that for a few seconds he found himself simply wavering on his feet, again having difficulty hearing -- understanding -- whatever else Yoda was saying.

His own future had been clouded by Qui-Gon’s injuries. Had Qui-Gon died, Obi-Wan’s best hope would have been being granted some minor position in Lord Koon's personal guard as an acknowledgement of his importance in Qui-Gon's life. More likely, he'd have ended up as one of the nameless grunts warring for the Pride, his talent in fighting or piloting exploited until he died in battle on or above some obscure and meaningless world, in truth living little differently from his enslavement during his youth by the Wookies.

Either of those options assumed he would have returned to his adoptive Pride -- that he'd be accepted to return at all. Obi-Wan had little doubt, however, that no matter his current position as Qui-Gon's shield brother as well as the abdicated Darth's lover, it was more likely Lord Koon would have bowed to the needs of political expediency and refuse Obi-Wan's service in any form. Within a week, exiled and alone without even the most minor of the Pride's support, Obi-Wan figured agents from Naboo would have discharged their vendetta over the death of Palpatine's only son and first heir by Obi-Wan's hand. It wouldn’t have mattered that Khamier had been the challenger, or that their duel had been legal and witnessed.

That an outcast, an _orphan_ and former slave, had proven better than the best of the strongest clan was not something Palpatine -- _either_ surviving Palpatine – had been able to bear and Obi-Wan’s life would have already been forfeit were it not for Qui-Gon .

Of course, Obi-Wan would have welcomed any form of death if Qui-Gon was no longer alive. It would be far better to be killed by those who should be his allies, or from an assassin’s hand instead of in honorable combat, than to consider a life without the one who was his life.

"Then thanks I will consider having received, if let me see to your well-being, you will," Obi-Wan suddenly heard from his side. This time the stick was not offered in violence but instead in aid, held upward for Obi-Wan to use to steady himself in his first steps since leaping from the bed.

"All I need in order to be well is to see him," Obi-Wan whispered hoarsely. He wasn't sure if his continued reluctance to accept aid was because of an inherent distrust of _anyone_ offering aid freely, from alien prudence, or from refusing to become even more beholden to Windu and his crew. His injuries, even without comparison to Qui-Gon's, were minor and, like his exhaustion, something he'd be able to deal with on his own should he get more than a few minutes to himself without interruption from these outsiders -- or from his own worries.

A slow nod from Yoda was his only response, along with a look that said all of his thoughts were known. Known and accepted, if only for now.

Obi-Wan resolutely ignored that possibility, along with the shiver that raised his hair from his flesh to have been read so well.

He was led to an area away from the normal diagnostic beds, toward what he assumed was a private room as it had a door instead of just opening into an alcove. Yoda made some sort of rumble in his throat in seeing the outer casing of the door's locking panel dangling down. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, wasn't at all surprised.

And simply resigned himself to seeing Xandia sitting next to Qui-Gon's bed, one of his bondmate's hands encased between hers. Given the events and the number of times his emotions had been tested and enflamed in this last day -- in just the last few minutes -- he found himself unable to muster up the anger Xandia's presumption deserved.

"It's about time you got here, boy," she snapped. "How did this happen?"

By _this_ , she referred to Qui-Gon's utter paleness, the barely discernable movement of the massive chest, the still present oxygen mask, so many bandages, bone-knitters, relaxant and analgesic patches, at least one new surgical scar …

Again Obi-Wan found the room swimming, memories replacing reality, but he ruthlessly pushed away any weakness lest he give the van Palpatine even more reason to hate him, or to despise Qui-Gon for choosing him.

"He was betrayed --"

"That's obvious, as he is lying here and you are not."

Obi-Wan flinched at her anger, in part because she was correct even though he hadn't been there when their contact had turned on Qui-Gon. At least he _had_ been the one to fight his way through to Qui-Gon's side and get them both out of a situation they just as easily could have died in.

He and Xandia both ignored Yoda's sudden and meaningless noises of protest. Once, Obi-Wan would have ended their staring match by dropping his eyes, dropping even to his knees in obsequiousness, the proper younger to an elder or lesser Pride-member to a greater. Less than a year ago, he would have challenged her words and forced her to prove her accusation by force of arms. But ten months of exile with Qui-Gon -- even a voluntary one -- had changed Obi-Wan more profoundly than had his duel and the resulting death of Xandia's brother or his rescue from the Wookies and his acceptance into Qui-Gon's Pride.

In this last year, his and Qui-Gon's lives had become so much more than just following the rather simple structure and codes of their mutual Sith heritage. Their concerns had narrowed, now encompassing only each other instead of family, clan and Pride. Their connection to one another was so intense, so overwhelming, that they were now intertwined to a level well beyond friends, brothers or even lovers. It was as if they were one, a combined soul, known and knowing to and of one another. They had become more than their memories and experiences apart. Their lives _before_ had become less real for not being experienced and remembered together.

Xandia's eyes widened, as if she could suddenly _see_ a little of the depth of Obi-Wan's feelings for Qui-Gon, but that just served to increase her anger and resentment. Obi-Wan's own emotions rolled, not so much in seeing the promise of his own death in her eyes, but from the abrupt realization that she had -- did -- truly love Qui-Gon in her own way.

And that she would never give up trying to get him back.

"Yes, well, the Trade Federation is notoriously fickle about honoring their agreements," Obi-Wan finally answered her demand for an explanation. "One of their trading partners apparently reneged on a deal and managed to implicate Qui-Gon. It took … aggressive negotiations to get them to see the error of their ways."

"Many marks of torture he bore," Yoda piped up. "Bones broken, burns --"

"But you have healed him," Xandia interrupted harshly, her face turning off-color.

Having seen and had to deal with the evidence of such torture before their rescue by the _Ascendant_ , Obi-Wan well understood Xandia's distress. Still, he raised his brow in surprise in seeing it so displayed. Would _she_ have been able to do what had been necessary to free Qui-Gon? Could she have caused their beloved even more pain in order to see an eventual end to it?

Squeamishness was _not_ an acceptable trait for any Sith, and Obi-Wan found it interesting/startling/frightening to think that the one who stood to rule the largest and strongest of the Prides might be so afflicted.

"Well will he be, if a chance to rest and recover he is given, without unnecessary stress surrounding him."

Yoda's point was well- taken, but Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he was any more willing to give up his enmity than Xandia would be. Nor would that be something Qui-Gon would ever ask -- or need -- of him. But this alien was Jedi, or a follower of one, and so no doubt it assumed that strong emotion was a failing instead of the valuable source of power and strength, as all Sith knew.

Both of them were spared the need to further argue or make promises they had no intention of keeping. Windu's voice commanded their attention abruptly by ordering Obi-Wan and Xandia's presence on the bridge.

Obi-Wan frowned, as loathe to leave Qui-Gon as he was to answer such a summons in general. He was certainly prepared to ignore the command if Xandia did. But she rose after replacing Qui-Gon's hand under the light blanket that covered the rest of his too-still body. With a calculated look Obi-Wan's direction, she then bent over and kissed Qui-Gon fully on the lips before striding past Obi-Wan and a non-plussed Yoda.

"Difficult and lonely, she is."

Lonely she is because _beyond_ difficult she is, Obi-Wan thought, but didn't bother to say. Lonely forever she could stay, as far as he was concerned. As long as he lived, she was never getting Qui-Gon back.

"You will stay with him? Tell him I was here but had to go?"

Yoda nodded. "Awaken soon will he not. But here someone will be when he does. And know that you it would have been, if possible."

Obi-Wan had to be content with that. For even as he was turning to follow Xandia's path to the bridge, the Padme android had arrived to ensure it.

*******

"You neglected to tell us there were hostiles in the area, Mister Kenobi," were the first words out of Windu's mouth as Obi-Wan entered the bridge.

Obi-Wan watched Xandia move to the tactical position, replacing the Wookie, who then moved to stand behind Solo in the piloting chair instead of taking another station or take an _advisory_ position near Windu. The brat was also on the bridge, hovering around a set of sensors and what looked like the external communications relay, part of which was open and undergoing diagnostics by the R2 unit or one just like it. Obi-Wan briefly wondered where Padme's normal station was, given that she was staying glued to his side as he moved down toward the center station. But Windu's glare was demanding an answer.

"I rather thought you might have figured out someone was in the area, given the damage to my ship," Obi-Wan offered dryly. Fuck, but he was tired of being expected to submit to another's presence or position, whether Xandia or Windu. "From what I understand, your engineer has been all over it," he added with his own glare first toward the tow-headed Anakin, and then, without apology, to Windu. “Wasn’t he able to pull up the visual and audio records of our last day?

Windu scowled, but then simply dropped his gaze to the three-dimensional tactical display hovering at his fingertips. Looking himself, Obi-Wan saw six unidentified ships highlighted in red, two more than had been hunting him and Qui-Gon, and one of which appeared much larger than all others, _including_ the _Ascendant_ which was centered in the display and limed in blue.

"Do you know who they are?"

Obi-Wan moved toward Windu, making sure he stopped just outside of reach so Padme wouldn’t feel threatened. He was certain he saw a small moue of disappointment cross Padme's lips that she couldn't manhandle him again. "Trandoshan, Gamorreans and a pet rancor or two if they're the same group," he said with a shrug at the incredulous look Solo shot over his shoulder.

"Pirates?" Windu asked in his exacting, pedantic tone.

"Actually, communications show them being directed by the Hutts," Amidala offered first, her image filling the huge screen in front of them.

Obi-Wan started upon hearing a howl of fear from the Wookie that soon faded beneath words of comfort from Solo. Something scared a Wookie?

"You said the Trade Federation was after you," Xandia accused.

"I said the Trade Federation had hold of Qui-Gon," he corrected without a glance her direction. "I said that their _partners_ had betrayed us."

"So you were working with the Hutts?" she charged disgustedly.

The disgust because of the loathsome, giant slug-like creatures everyone knew the Hutts to be, Obi-wan was sure.

He finally turned his head over his shoulder and gave Xandia his most charming smile. "Actually, no, just working for some foolish Gungans. I believe the Hutts are simply sending out hunters in search of easy prey." His smile widened. "Maybe they heard about the Ascendant's presence in this sector …"

Xandia bristled at the implication against the ship she was currently aligned with, then narrowed her eyes as she figured out he had set her assumptions up in the first place.

"Amidala, what can we expect from the Hutts?" Windu's deep voice cut across any further sniping they might have exchanged.

Windu hadn't run up against the Hutts yet? Then the Wookie's fear must come from something that had happened long ago.

Obi-Wan found himself shaking his head. While he loathed both races, Obi-Wan preferred tangling with the Hutts. For all that they were the most alien appearing of the races that had survived the dissolution of the Jedi Commonwealth, their emotions, desires and motivations were quite human and easily recognized.

Greed and Power.

It was Sabe who answered, her image sheeting into position just to Windu's right. "The Hutts generally do not seek to kill their prey, but prefer to capture it. Many of their endeavors involve slave labor. I imagine their hunters, therefore, will likely fire to distract us, and send in lancers in an attempt to board."

"Can they?"

"All ships are vulnerable to pilots willing to commit suicide to damage us," Sabe flickered.

“Their rams can penetrate even our hull," came from Amidala. "Countermeasures may distract a good percentage of their attack, but if the carrier launches the number of lancers and troopships it could be carrying, given its size, we'll no doubt be repelling boarders if they decide to take us on."

"Han, can you open up slip stream and get us to lightspeed?" Windu asked his pilot.

Solo took a glance at his own relays and shook his head. "We're too close to the asteroid field; we'll pull too many in with us and chance an even bigger hull penetration than what the lancers could do."

Windu gave a nod as if he'd come to the same conclusion. "How about talking our way out?"

"Hutts do not negotiate," came from both Solo and Xandia even before Sabe offered the same.

Or Obi-Wan; certainly the Hutts didn't negotiate with those they considered prey.

Windu nodded again and turned to Padme and Obi-Wan. "How many units can you manage, Padme?"

"I have thirteen semi-autonomous units performing random ship inspections and preventative maintenance."

So Windu wasn't asking about how many of the attack ships she could hold off, but how many AIs she could oversee as defensive units.

"There are also my three working on the Sith Scoutship," Anakin piped up from his engineering console.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to object to this blatant evidence of the invasion of his and Qui-Gon's privacy, even if it was only unsupervised repairs instead of out and out spying or sabotage. But again Amidala spoke first, with words that put all other concerns to lesser priority.

"We have incoming missile fire. All hands to General Quarters," even though all of the sentients Obi-Wan had met were here on the bridge other than Yoda. And Qui-Gon.

"Launch counter measures,” Mace quickly ordered. “Han, do what you can to get us away from the ships and the asteroid field." Then a snarl back toward Xandia, "do not return fire without my order!"

"Captain!" she began her protest.

"If the Hutts rely on slave labor, no doubt that includes their own ships' crews," Windu temporized. "You will not fire indiscriminately and endanger the lives of innocents or those whom could very well become our allies."

"There is nothing innocent about Trandoshans or Gammoreans," Obi-Wan snorted, adding his own voice to Xandia's continuing objections. "Slaves or not, they would not ally themselves with you, Jedi. Other than Wookies, I know of no other two races that more enjoy hunting you humans."

Before Solo or Windu could protest his generalized condemnation of their trusted companion's species, Obi-Wan continued. "If you are not going to fight, Captain, then I'll take my leave. Better Qui-Gon die of his wounds or in battle than to be subjected to --"

"Countermeasures have eliminated 65 percent of the inbound. Point defenses now coming on-line," Amidala interrupted.

"Point defenses will fail against eighteen percent of the incoming missiles," Sabe then announced. "All hand brace for impact."

Obi-Wan could only step forward to clutch at the back of Windu's command chair. He found himself automatically reaching for Padme even though her tensile body would manage a tumble much easier than his own; in the heat of the moment his inborn training to protect women of child-bearing age was not something easily overcome despite knowing intellectually that Padme really wasn't a woman and had no genes to preserve.

Whether it was his own grip or the android's, Obi-Wan managed to keep his feet through the first salvo as did, unsurprisingly, the Wookie with his hold on the back of Solo's seat. Before the ship fully compensated for the disturbances across its shields, Padme was dragging Obi-Wan toward the station closest to Xandia's.

He had only just taken a seat with the greater portion of the salvo hit.

"Shields down to seventy percent," Sabe warned. "Superficial damage to decks thirty-seven, forty-one and forty-nine."

"More missiles launched," Amidala called out. "Lancers are also scrambling and taking up trailing positions."

"Returning fire!" Xandia put words to deed despite Windu's standing orders to await his command.

The ship shook again, this time from their own launches.

Or perhaps from Windu's thundering, wordless roar. "Padme, take over tactical!" the Jedi finally ground out. "Xandia, get down to Medical and see if Yoda needs help."

For once Obi-Wan could feel some sympathy toward his rival. She'd been raised to command herself, and obviously had a much better idea of the threat they were facing than Windu did. But he felt a measure of satisfaction to see her treated with no more consideration than she or any of the Darths commanded their own troops. Windu was either not astute enough or had the experience to be like Qui-Gon, who was one of those few, rare commanders that understood their own knowledge and experience wasn't always the most accurate. Or the most effective.

By the look on her face, Obi-Wan wasn't certain that Xandia would end up anywhere near the Med Bay, or be of a mind to assist anyone should they become injured from the next wave of death that was even now breaking through Amidala and Sabe's defenses. Xandia did step away from her station, however. Giving little more than a disdainful sniff to Padme as the droid arrived to take her place.

She then gave a twisted lift of her lips in Obi-Wan's direction, which had him wanting to quit the bridge with her, suddenly unsure of whom Qui-Gon needed most protection from.

Solo's piloting finally did what the initials salvos had not, sending not only Xandia to the deck just as she was about to step into the turbolift, but also the Wookie and Anakin. Obi-Wan managed to keep his own seat, as had Windu and Padme. The droid had gasped, however, something the other two Amidalas quickly echoed and Obi-Wan tore his gaze away from his rival dishevelment.

Instead of following Windu's orders, Solo was taking them _into_ the asteroid field, was attempting the same tactics Obi-Wan had used reasonably successfully the day before. Except that Obi-Wan’s ship had maybe a tenth of the _Ascendant's_ mass and beam.

"Solo?" Even Windu's tone was strangled.

"I know what I'm doing, Mace. I can do this."

Maybe he could in his own trashed Correalian Freighter. Maybe if Solo had Sith-Nietzschean reflexes, or the precognition that enabled him to anticipate where the erratic orbits of the asteroids would intersect along his chaotic flight-path. Having both, Obi-Wan had still taken damage during his own wild flight that had ended with a hull breach.

The _Ascendant_ quickly proved large enough to survive numerous impacts from the smaller asteroids with minimal critical damage. Not even too many hull breaches, because Solo was good -- damn good. Sith good! Not only a natural pilot, he was also a daredevil; not so much reckless as fearless. Windu and Padme's all too audible consternation would have been laughable had the overall situation not been so dire.

As it now appeared unless a breach imploded through the bridge or med bay, the threat to the crew from the asteroids would be negligible.

Less than six percent of the raiders’ next salvo got through, between point defenses and their own missiles (which this time Windu did not deny the need for), along with Solo's flying skills and the asteroids augmenting the raft of countermeasures. Unfortunately, this spread had come from _all_ of the ships opposing them, almost tripling the number inbound. The great ship reeled under the assault, warning lights and alarms going off even as Amidala began rerouting power grids and secondary systems to compensate for the damage the ship was taking.

Obi-Wan watched helplessly as ten of the fifty or more lancetships made it past all Amidala, Padme and Solo could throw at them. Sabe took up the litany of hull breaches as well as damage control, but even with all of that, the real danger lay in the boxy transport ships that were following the Lancers. Eight of those had followed the lead ships in. While only three made their stations, that still meant a likely sixty boarders or more ready to take over the ship.

Windu might not have recognized the dangers the Hutts presented in time to stop them, but he knew about the strategies now facing him. The Sith-Nietzsche had successfully employed such tactics during the War, taking down many of the Jedi High Guard ships of the line. For Windu, these tactics weren't stale or three hundred years out of date; the evidence of the _Ascendant's_ last battle before being caught up in the limbo of the Singularity was still evident throughout the ship despite the work Anakin and Windu done to restore the behemoth.

Too bad this time Windu had a crew of six counting himself and Obi-Wan (but not Qui-Gon), instead of the near thousand he should have.

"Chewbacca, get Anakin down to the slipstream chamber," the Jedi ordered even as Sabe reported more breaches. "Protect him and the engines, barricade yourself in there if you have too. We'll worry about digging you out of there later." Windu took to his feet through the next round of missile impacts, moving up toward Padme and Tactical.

"Xandia, get your butt down to Medical," came his next order as Solo practically flipped the ship on its vertical axis to avoid an asteroid large enough to thwart Hutt and Jedi plans alike. "Yoda will be flooding the rest of the ship with a gaseous paralytic if necessary, one that stays undetected and airborne long enough to catch them once they unseal their suits if they're wearing any.

Using such a defense would render Windu's concern in protecting the ship's ability to escape into slipstream useless if there wasn't a pilot left able to perform the maneuvers. Not to mention the risk Windu was taking in leaving Yoda and Xandia his only mobile crew. Well, there would always be Padme and the other droids, so Obi-Wan supposed even a van Palpatine would be prudent enough not to show her hand when it could still be countered.

“He will also be prepping the inoculations against it and will come to you." Windu continued.

The Jedi looked back down his bridge. "Han, Padme and I will keep them from you and the bridge. You _have_ to get us into slipstream before they can launch reinforcements."

"I'll help," Obi-Wan said as he rose. "It's my neck too," he added before Windu could voice an automatic denial.

"Okay, Windu finally agreed with a nod. “Amidala, redirect Tactical to Secondary Navigation. Kenobi, you can support Han --"

"I meant fighting," Obi-Wan interrupted and ignored Padme's growl as he moved within striking distance of her Captain. "Your ship is already managing the point defenses, your pilot is handling the rest of the threat from without. Have you ever even seen a Trandoshan or Gammorean outside of your Jedi training manuals?" He strove to bite back his frustration and disdain, as well as the sour taste his acknowledgement of the Jedi's sensibilities gave him. “I don't care how many droids Padme can manage, you're going to need another hand against the borders.”

"I --"

"Intruders on decks three, seventeen and thirty-five," Amidala called out.

Deck Three was one deck down from the bridge, the other two were level with the majority of Crew Quarters and Engineering, if Obi-Wan was remembering his research correctly. It sounded as if someone else had studied Jedi ships of antiquity, but hadn’t believed the accounts that it was being manned by a skeleton crew. Having two-thirds of the invaders stuck on empty decks was a great advantage.

"Employ all security fields on decks thirty-five and seventeen, and reroute Anakin and Chewbacca if they're not already past there," Windu immediately ordered. He then gave Padme one more look before turning toward the Sabe projection. "Sabe, release the controls on Mister Kenobi's energy weapons. Padme, you and Kenobi with me."

Obi-Wan let out the breath he'd been holding. Having little desire to take on a cadre of Hutt mercenaries on his own, he'd stay with Windu -- for now. But he'd die before letting himself be taken as a slave again. And he’d make sure that Qui-Gon's death was just as honorable and swift.

**2.**

Awakening to see an unidentifiable alien hovering over him had Qui-Gon Jinn von Dooku immediately reaching out with his mind for his bond and shieldmate, as well as for his weapon; only to find both missing, along with his ability to move. He had no knowledge of where he was or why his mind and soul felt like little more than a muddle of confusion and his body like a three-dimensional map of agony and paralysis. Despite all of that, an impression of movement nearby from someone other than Obi-Wan, had Qui-Gon on his feet with his hand wrapped around the alien's own, crushing its fingers against the weapon it held.

"Danger to you I am not, Darth von Dooku!" the ancient one huffed out. "Saved you I did, saved your bondmate. But danger again your Obi-Wan is in."

Hearing Obi-Wan's name from another's lips helped cut through the fog of Qui-Gon's confusion even more than the stimulant he could now psychically sense coursing through his body. Being unarmed -- and undressed -- he had little reason to trust the gnome writhing under his grip, but had Obi-Wan been coerced into identifying himself, he would have done so as Kenobi of the Tatooine Pride.

Someone knowing Obi-Wan’s birth name meant this creature had been trusted to some small extent.

Loosening his grip but not his hold, Qui-Gon pulled the alien closer toward him as he took a step back to be able to lean unobtrusively against the bed he’d moved away from too hastily. "Where is he?" Qui-Gon meant to demand, but found his words caught as an incredible pain ripped through his throat along with a ghost of a memory of screams that had rendered it so useless.

"Doctor I am. Healing you I have begun, but needed is more time before well you will be. Needed more, unfortunately, is your presence and weapon, I fear."

The headache of trying to comprehend the alien doctor's diction was the least of Qui-Gon's pain, yet even his body's agony was secondary to the thought of Obi-Wan in danger. "Pants, weapon and another stimulant," he croaked out, releasing the creature after its own pointed cough.

"Too quick to threaten and use violence," the old one muttered, although it readily turned its back on Qui-Gon as it shook and flexed the three clawed hand that hadn’t quite been broken. "Pants and weapon," it then repeated, pointing the stick it how held in its other hand toward a dark bundle. "Another stimulant need you do not," followed with a bit more force. "Better at my job am I than are you or your shield brother."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at that, but then had to admit if only to himself, that the distresses in his mind and body were indeed already easing. More bits of memory were also returning, little more than flashes, but several were of Obi-Wan and felt recent.

"On the Jedi High Guard ship, _Coruscant Ascendant_ , the two of you are," the alien then answered his first unspoken question. "Under attack we all are."

Qui-Gon wasn't sure which provided the greater shock: finding himself on a Jedi High Guard ship, or the fact that someone was _attacking_ a Jedi High Guard ship. Short of an entire fleet or long ago destroyed planetary defense platforms, there were few groups stupid enough -- or powerful enough -- to take on something that had, if the rumors were even half right, survived the Sith succession with its technology primarily intact.

Unfortunately being stupid could be just as deadly as being powerful and neither were something Qui-Gon was willing to let Obi-Wan face alone.

"Intruders on decks three, seventeen and thirty-five."

It struck Qui-Gon incongruous to hear such a warning from a female voice that sounded barely older than his own daughter, but taking heed to the words, he decided that the rest of his questions could wait. Until the doctor pressed another inoculant against his neck as he raised up to fasten his pants. "I thought you said I didn't need --"

"Counteragent to defensive measures," he was told as the alien tucked a handful of ampoules and a sprayer into his hands. “If reach the crew you do, use these.”

Qui-Gon nodded and didn't waste time asking who was attacking, nor in putting on any more of his clothes or even his boots. He'd find out soon enough who he'd be fighting. And as long as he had his saber, he truly needed nothing else.

Save for his bond and shield mate at his back.

Qui-Gon followed the alien doctor out just as the medical bay door opened. Both of them stilled, although Qui-Gon took a step forward beyond his healer and raised his weapon.

"Xandi?" he choked out. By the maker, if the ship he was on was under attack by the Naboo Pride …

"Invader she is not," the doctor cautioned at the same time with a grab hold of Qui-Gon's pants. "Crewmember is she of Captain Windu."

"Ally," Xandia du Crion van Palpatine corrected, her initial shock in seeing him being replaced with a look of derision toward the doctor that Qui-Gon had no trouble remembering, having seen it all too often directed at Obi-Wan even before he and Obi-Wan had become bonded, and before the look had been turned his way as well at the end of their marriage.

"You are well enough to fight?" she returned her attention Qui-Gon’s direction, with a look that was not at all derisive.

He was standing, so the answer should have been obvious. But as the expression on her face softened to one he had rarely seen even when they'd been accepting of the choices their sires had made, Qui-Gon simply nodded.

He would deal with a uncharacteristically friendly Xandia later.

"Intruders on decks one and twenty-nine," another alarm sounded.

Xandia paled. "Secondary troops to take the Bridge and the Slipstream Chamber."

"Guard, Captain will have put, to protect our way out," the doctor said gruffly and hobbled his way toward Xandia with another inoculation in his clawed hand. "To the Bridge, therefore, you should go."

Xandia looked torn, but the spark in the back of Qui-Gon's mind that breathed of Obi-Wan was definitely above him. It was rare for warships to have their medical facilities in any other location other than buried in the middle.

"Windu sent me to make sure you do what you must to keep the ship out of the Hutts' slime, Yoda," Xandia finally said gruffly to the doctor, as if resentful of having to pass on another's orders.

“Antidote for the crew Darth von Dooku already has -- ”

“He is no longer Darth!” Xandia spat. “He … _willfully_ gave up the right to be called that.” All traces of her earlier softness was burning away under rising fury and, likely, a mix of embarrassment and shame for how Qui-Gon’s actions had reflected upon her.

Now that was something Qui-Gon had not missed in the least upon their parting of the ways. Only her father displayed a greater air of superiority. Qui-Gon had no doubt that Xandia would prove useful, however, if they needed to fight their way to Obi-Wan, and so he again said nothing, instead moving to follow her as she abandoned the doctor and the Med Bay.

While Qui-Gon had never fought beside Xandia -- or against, at least not physically -- he had done both with her brother and the father that had trained them. Xandia du Crion van Palpatine could trace her genes back through a long line of Pride champions, on both sides of her forbearers.

"Your stray says they are Trandoshans and Gammoreans."

As that was one of the mildest of names she’d ever called Obi-Wan, once more Qui-Gon ignored the manner of her delivery and focused solely on the information.

Trandoshans, Gammoreans, and Hutts. It could have been worse, but not by much. Fortunately the former two races were plodding and relatively stupid, unlike the Noghri that were generally the Hutts favored agents. On the other hand, _all_ of the Hutts' subjugated races displayed a certain animal cunning and ferocity, as well as a fatalism that kept them fighting long after wiser foes would have fled the field. To die in battle was an easier death than that which they would face as a consequence of failure to accomplish the Hutts’ biding.

"How many?"

At his side Xandia faltered a step before recovering as they raced along the empty decks. Qui-Gon had to assume it was from hearing his injured voice, which brought him a frission of pain beyond the physical agony he experienced in speaking. Caught up in the challenge of being in the moment since he'd awaken, until this point he'd managed to put out of mind the extent of the damage his throat had sustained while being tortured. While he knew Obi-Wan was not so shallow as to leave him, to love him less should he never recover his normal speaking tones, Qui-Gon still decried even the temporary loss of something that had brought his Obi-Wan such pleasure.

But it was not Xandia who answered Qui-Gon's graveled question.

"Four of fifteen ships have avoided our best efforts." This time Qui-Gon got an image along with the return of the youthful voice that had first announced the intrusions; a full-length hologram that looked startled as she abruptly appeared before them.

"That's Amidala, the ship's AI," Xandia offered as she and Qui-Gon didn't even slow to charge through the holomatrix. "Well, actually, that's the Sabe personality, but --"

"There are currently ninety-four intruders on board," the hologram stated as it appeared again ahead of them. "Well, eighty-one still standing. Thirty-nine, however, are trapped on decks seventeen, twenty-nine and thirty-five, leaving forty-two moving freely."

"Sounds like your boy is acquitting himself well."

Qui-Gon hid his smile at Xandia's grudging praise; while he assumed the Jedi crew were also working to save their ship and so were fighting alongside Obi-Wan, it was telling that Xandia would rather assume the credit for bringing the raiders low belonged more to an orphaned Sith than her shipmates -- allies.

On the other hand, maybe not so surprising since that orphan _had_ bested and killed her brother in their honor challenge.

Without saying anything more, Xandia led them into one of the lifts that bisected the various levels of the massive ship.

"The raiders are in four groups, all ultimately converging on the bridge," Sabe addressed them, appearing once again. Although the holographic field was being maintained as they moved rapidly upward, it blinked in and out a couple of time in addition to a constant, annoying flicker.

In trying to remember everything Obi-Wan had ever researched about Jedi High Guard ships that might be used to his advantage, Qui-Gon suspected the loss of integrity was more from the strain currently being placed on the ship’s resources than an actual flaw in the system. Even Sith technologies had yet to reclaim the level of achievements attained prior to the War that had nearly destroyed two civilizations.

"The closest group is in the corridor outside the former hydroponics and droid maintenance bays. Captain Windu is in place to ambush them, but will need additional reinforcements to be successful. Exit on level six and climb down the delta-five-theta access ladder, it will bring you in behind them." The hologram turned away for a moment.

"You need to hurry; the other groups are also nearing that junction point, by way of different catwalks crossing over one of the bays."

Xandia didn't seem too concerned or sympathetic to the holographic image's obvious distress on behalf of the endangered crew, nor did Qui-Gon have the energy to offer any promises or encouragement even had the image been anything other than an AI manifestation. Whatever stimulant the alien doctor had given him was working remarkably well, but now that he was able to stop for a few moments and take stock, he was becoming all too aware of just what needed to be overcome.

Each bone-deep ache brought forth a memory of what – who -- had caused it, although his recollections pretty much ended with the arrival of Obi-Wan at the smuggler's stronghold. Those circumstances before Obi-Wan's appearance were not ones Qui-Gon particularly cared to remember; he been a prisoner for most of two days, and had been … interrogated off and on through all of it. His relief in seeing Obi-Wan carve through the door and his jailers –

Qui-Gon had one fond memory from then; seeing Obi-Wan that one last time before he died. Not that he hadn't been even happier to be given a chance to die fighting instead of while chained immobile. That they’d escaped had been a testament to his bondmate’s anger and skill, and to his own stubborn refusal to let the bastards beat them.

It seemed quite a shame for the two of them to have survived that and the space battle that had followed, only to die now alongside one of the rival Naboo, for all that Xandia was the mother of his children.

Or even worse, to die for Jedi.

But as they finally came upon the battle, Qui-Gon realized that once again he would have to fight and stay alive just for the opportunity to be with Obi-Wan. Before them only a dark-skinned man he assumed to be Captain Windu, was fighting alongside the living model for the hologram. No other crew. No Obi-Wan.

Even as he and Xandia rushed forward, the assumed Captain stumbled back from too close a blow, which left his young female companion open to three Trandoshans who rushed forward. Somehow she managed to push or slip her way out of the flailing arms that sought to subdue her and to send one crashing to the floor with just a stiff-armed thrust into his chest.

So, not a model for the ship's AI, but the AI fashioned into a droid. The most remarkable, most human-appearing droid Qui-Gon had ever seen, even unto the angry expression visible on her youthful face as she moved back toward the captain’s side.

Droid and Jedi or not, eight -- no seven against two were tough odds.

Without thinking about who he would be aiding, Qui-Gon gestured telekinetically and knocked three of the seven into a near bulkhead.

Nor was he the only Sith-Nietzsche with formidable mental powers.

Xandia du Crion van Palpatine wasn't strongly telekinetic, however. What she was was pyrokinetic. And so, while reptilian Trandoshans didn't have cloth uniforms to catch fire, as they mainly wore leather and bits of metal as protective garments, even leather burned if you exposed it long enough. And metal conducted heat quite nicely.

That was enough of an unforeseen attack to startle two of the remaining raiders and allow the droid to thrust her palm again, this time against one of the Gammoreans, smashing through a protruding tusk as well as cracking that side of his jaw. Windu surged past her in a drop kick that drove into the chest of the other Gamorrian, sending that porcine giant crashing back against the two Trandoshans Xandia had set on fire.

It was too bad burns and broken bones wouldn’t be enough.

Qui-Gon unclipped his saber to released its black-green blade, and let a feral smile lift his lips at the whine of fear the sole standing Trandoshan let loose as the distinctive hiss filled the near silence. Qui-Gon charged forward, not with the lightning quickness that was Xandia’s trademark, nor with the flourishes and acrobatic leaps of his own beloved Obi-Wan. Of those present, only Qui-Gon had the height and muscles to rival the reptilian aliens. _He_ fought with an implacable yet graceful economy of movement and energy, grounded in his strength but relying on years and years of experience. Like most Sith, he used a two handed grip on his Force-Saber, and it took but a flick of his wrists to decapitate the fearful Trandoshan.

Xandia moved to finish off the three that Qui-Gon had pushed into the bulkhead when the droid suddenly sprang forward, putting itself in the way.

"They're unconscious,' it called out in what sounded remarkably like disgust. "You can't kill them --"

"They are the enemy and will kill us given any chance." But Xandia lowered her blade and turned to look toward Windu who was kneeling beside a dead Gamorrian. “Captain?”

"Padme’s right. We don't murder our foes," he backed his droid while gaining his feet.

"And who of your non-existent crew are you going to pull away from defending your ship to guard these?" Xandia snarled, gesturing with her own blood red saber while incidentally dragging the tip across the arm of one of the Trandoshan's, although not deep enough to cut the raider's arm off. “C3PO and R2?”

"Sabe, where are the next closest group of raiders?" Windu asked instead of responding further to Xandia.

The hologram flickered back into their presence. "There." It pointed out and up into the open area before them that must contain the catwalks already mentioned. Now that everyone’s breathing had begun to get under control, Qui-Gon thought he could even hear pounding boot steps and a few bellows.

"And there!" as they began to edge into what appeared to be the maintenance bay given the litter of containers and parts scattered around the room.

_There_ was a second catwalk crossing at an acute angle above the first a few hundred yards into the bay. Even using the containers for cover, the raiders would be able to fire down on them in a cross-fire while using the metal grids to maintain partial cover.

This definitely was not a defensible position. They would need to draw the raiders down to their level and back out into the corridor where only a few could come toward them at a time.

"The status of the final group?" Qui-Gon asked, remembering the hologram's original warning of there being four uncontained boarding parties.

This time she pointed fifty degrees to the right of where she indicated the first group would be coming from. "They have been diverted and are heading this way too, Captain," the mobile Sabe hologram answered to Windu.

“Of course they are,” Xandia muttered, only to be overridden by Padme, “Our other guest is fleeing the second group of raiders.”

Xandia started to laugh but stopped when Qui-Gon stepped into her personal space with a snarl and a deadly look. Sith-Nietzsche -- Obi-Wan – did not back down from a battle. He was _leading_ the raiders to some end, not fleeing as the AI implied and Xandia wanted to believe. Of that Qui-Gon had no doubt.

“Does he know about the others – about us?” Windu was asking.

“Yes,” Padme answered.

“We need to distract the first group away from Obi-Wan’s arrival.” And he moved further into the room, scanning for the best available cover

"We’re too exposed here,” Xandia protested although she followed him further into the bay.

"The raiders are using stun weapons,” Sabe appeared in front of them again.

Qui-Gon snapped his head around. "You're sure?"

The hologram cocked its -- her -- head, and Qui-Gon could almost see her accessing the data from the main AI. "The damage from the stray shots is not significant enough to be blasters. I would assume they are looking to salvage the crew as slaves."

That shut even Xandia up. Even she was sensitive to Obi-Wan’s past, could acknowledge the waste of any Sith being orphaned in infancy and enslaved, their genetics lost to the greater plan.

Or maybe she just now realized, as Qui-Gon had, the likelihood of what type of labor would be expected of her as well as Obi-Wan. The two were of an age and disposition where menial tasks would be a waste of time and … assets. Yet the Hutts would never be able to trust either of them to fight as slave conscripts.

If it was with his last breath, Qui-Gon would see _both_ Obi-Wan and Xandia dead instead of consigning them to the only avenue left for the Hutts to profit off of them. His Obi-Wan would never end up in one of the Outer Rim brothels.

Qui-Gon threw off the hand Xandia had placed on his arm and continued moving toward where he anticipated Obi-Wan would appear. Were he uninjured, Qui-Gon might be able to propel himself upward onto the next catwalk, then upward again before any of the groups showed up, but not in his present condition. He needed to find out what Obi-Wan was intending …

He opened the telepathic bond linking him to his shieldmate and with next to no effort slid into Obi-Wan’s mind, moving behind his mate’s surface thoughts so that he would offer no distraction. As expected, it wasn’t fear he found motivating his beloved. Qui-Gon found only the single-minded clarity he expected; found that particular focus that infused his shieldmate during battle, the one Qui-Gon could uniquely meld with.

Alone he and Obi-Wan were fighters to be reckoned with. Together they were unparalleled.

Qui-Gon felt the exact moment when his presence was discovered. As Obi-Wan welcomed Qui-Gon into his mind, Qui-Gon’s own aches and worries lessen under the fierce pleasure, regard and relief. With that rush of energy and emotion, so came a measure of Obi-Wan's intent.

Before the first group of raiders appeared in the distance, from down the length of the higher straight-away Obi-Wan came into view. He was running yes, with his head tucked down, all pumping limbs, and the flowing afterimage of his indigo saber. Although he'd not yet raised his eyes that they might meet gazes, Qui-Gon was certain Obi-Wan knew exactly where he was.

Qui-Gon wanted that contact as he feasted on the sight of his mate. He needed that extra connection beyond their deepening mental communion, especially upon seeing that Obi-Wan was liberally streaked with blood.

None -- at least no more than a little -- was Obi-Wan’s own, however; the red was liberally painted over by the hues of green and purple blood of his foes.

“What is he doing?” Padme asked as Xandia voiced her own confusion. Padme had taken cover behind the same parts bins that Windu had positioned himself behind.

It looked like Obi-Wan was slowing, purposely giving those behind him a better target even as he reached a point where the other raider group also had him targeted.

“What he does best,” Qui-Gon breathed out. He knew Obi-Wan had the skill to pull this off, but he still cringed to consider it. There were so many factors to be accounted for, so many – too many -- pursuers.

Had Obi-Wan only been given half a chance to impose his will upon them, Qui-Gon had little doubt that the outcome would have been so much in question. Obi-Wan’s greatest psionic gift lay in the ability to alter the weak-minded into believing what he told them, regardless of reality. It was not a skill Obi-Wan had had much opportunity to use amongst the clans; few Sith could be considered weak-minded or willed, and certainly no _orphan_ was allowed such opportunity against his _betters_. But it had proved useful time and again once Qui-Gon and he had gone their own way – it could have worked against the raiders.

Instead, it was his own telekinetic skill Obi-Wan called on now to aid his effort, a skill whose strength fell somewhere between Qui-Gon’s and Xandia’s.

He’d slowed only enough to let the raiders think they could finally hit him, and then between one breath and the next, Obi-Wan turned his path abruptly and leapt up to the railing that edged his catwalk. His feet only touched it for a second, before he was pitching out and forward, diving, spinning, and _twisting_ in an aerial display that would have made the most skillful acrobat weep.

Numerous bolts flew past Obi-Wan, not all of them set to stun. While Obi-Wan deftly deflected some back into the barrel-chested bodies of his pursuers, others shots continued on their paths to take down their fellow raiders taking aim from the catwalk below. The raiders had gotten the crossfire they sought; only with each other as targets.

Even as Qui-Gon watched, breathless with concern and awe knowing that Obi-Wan needed to descend nearly two hundred yards, he had kept a portion of his awareness on the others, and so picked up the surreptitious movement of Xandia’s hands. He rolled from his own cover and reached out to clamp his hand around her fingers, squeezing with all of his strength and pushing her arm upward while also drawing Xandia’s body down and into his own. The blaster shot just barely missed Padme. And Obi-Wan.

“I was only offering covering fire,” Xandia proclaimed defensively?

“The fuck you were!” She’d been aiming for Obi-Wan, hoping to hit him – to kill him – and blame the raiders. Qui-Gon had no concern when he felt then heard several bones break beneath his grip. It meant nothing to him that Xandia didn’t cry out, and still wouldn’t let the weapon go. All he felt was rage, deep, murderous –

Even Windu turned their direction. “Xandia, what –“

But the others had forgotten for a moment that the dangers surrounded them as well as Obi-Wan. Not all of the raiders had been caught up by Obi-Wan’s acrobatics. Even as Padme moved across the open area between their two points of cover to pry Qui-Gon away from Xandia, Windu collapsed, and neither Qui-Gon nor the droid were aware enough to note what kind of pulse had hit him.

A smile suddenly transformed Xandia’s expression despite the tears that now streamed from her eyes; the three combatants separated, Xandia and Padme exchanging positions. Qui-Gon considered moving to keep Xandia close at hand, but he’d made his point with her and was confident even she wasn’t jealous enough to endanger her own life again in trying to take Obi-Wan’s.

Then Obi-Wan landed, awkwardly, leaving Qui-Gon to wonder if Xandia had tried something even more subtle with her telekinesis. Proving it – even confronting her about it – would take more than he had to give her. Designed or accidental, Obi-Wan was limping as he began to moving to Qui-Gon and was, therefore, an easier target.

While Padme joined him in giving Obi-Wan covering fire, Qui-Gon dearly wished the raiders were close enough that he could take his saber to them since he couldn’t yet raise it against the one he needed to.

“Amidala, initiate command protocol Beta!”

“No!” Padme protested Xandia’s screamed order.

Sabe appeared and echoed the protest, yet “Authorization?” the disembodied third voice of the young woman asked.

“Scan the ship. Captain Windu is down and your ship is being overrun. Chain of command falls to me.”

“Acknowledged.”

Qui-Gon wasn’t sure if it was the horrified expression on both Padme and Sabe that was raising the hair on the back of his neck, or the unholy glee that had consumed Xandia’s.

“Implement Threat Condition Ome --”

This time Padme didn’t even protest, she just charged across the floor again and threw herself against Xandia. Qui-Gon watched in utter amazement as the droid delivered the same type of abuse she’d given the raiders to one of her crew – her new captain it appeared. Unfortunately it appeared that the blow had been controlled enough to render Xandia unconscious instead of killing her.

Although he suspected it was important to discover what Padme had prevented Xandia from doing, there was still the matter of the remaining, active raiders, and the fact that the droid had showed remarkable independent initiative, given its counterpart had already acknowledged Xandia’s command.

“Dammit, who’s in charge now?” he growled, when all he wanted to do was gather Obi-Wan up in his arms now his bondmate was sliding down next to him. He blessed his ancestors that Obi-Wan simply gave a quick glance toward Windu and Xandia’s bodies, and then turned his attention back to firing on the raiders, asking no questions that Qui-Gon didn’t have all the answers to.

Padme looked startled and started to answer, but paused open-mouthed, for the first time looking like the android she was instead of the woman.

Fuck. A _Möbius_ conflict, which meant it was up to Obi-Wan and him.

He had absolutely no qualms about abandoning Xandia here. He would normally feel the same about any Jedi, but Qui-Gon figured that if Windu _was_ alive, he and Obi-Wan would get much better cooperation from the remaining members of the crew if he didn’t actively participate in changing that status.

“The other crew,” Obi-Wan repeated aloud as their sharing of thoughts came up with a possible solution. “Yoda?” he called out more sharply, both of them hoping the AI crash hadn’t also disrupted the communications system.

“Yes, Obi-Wan?”

Qui-Gon dug around for one of the ampoules of counter-agent and the injector Yoda had thrust into his hands before he and Xandia had left the medical bay.

“If you’ve got some sort of set-up to paralyze the raiders, do it now!”

“With Qui-Gon you now are?”

“Yes, but the others are –“

At the same moment Obi-Wan was responding to the ship’s doctor and Qui-Gon was pressing the counter-agent against Obi-Wan’s neck, Obi-Wan caught sight of the threat. Qui-Gon found himself flat on his ass from his crouch, skidding away from Obi-Wan and the container. His sheer surprise of Obi-Wan’s _push_ , given how tightly they’d woven their minds together, lasted no more than the time to gasp, however. A grenade had been thrown from above in their direction and it didn’t matter that the raiders would no longer be conscious to see whether it caught their prey or not.

Qui-Gon knew even without being melded to them that Obi-Wan’s thoughts would remain on his protection instead of Obi-Wan caring for himself. So as Obi-Wan thrust out a hand to better focus his telekinesis and direct the grenade back, Qui-Gon used his own TK to pull his bondmate to him.

He was certain that Obi-Wan had launched himself away from the container and grenade before it exploded. Obi-Wan had gone limp intentionally even as the raiders were being dropped flat onto the catwalks – and a few over the sides – from whatever measures Yoda had taken. Yet the force of the sonic concussion that was meant to incapacitate them had even Qui-Gon reeling. Control and focus broke. Qui-Gon could only flatten himself fully against the floor and hope to cushion Obi-Wan’s collision with his own body. He had the fleeting thought that it was a good thing Windu and Xandia were already unconscious and that the droid was off-line and so no one else would witness this quite embarrassing cock-up.

This was going to hurt!

**Epilogue**

This was not the first time Mace Windu found himself wondering why the forces behind existence had allowed him to survive long past the destruction of everything and everyone he held dear only to be reborn into a century where morality and values held little meaning.

Well, no, he also held this crew quite dear – at least most of them. His feelings might have been born out of Solo’s own crew of salvagers for freeing him from the event horizon, and he knew his feelings for Yoda stemmed as much from finding someone else who had lived during Mace’s time – had lived _through_ the intervening years – as it was the irascible little gnome’s peculiar personality and sense of humor. But he’d come to care about the lot of them, to count on and trust them with his own survival and with the dream of rebuilding the Jedi Commonwealth.

This was why it was so difficult to stand before them right now.

Mace wasn’t sure who’s betrayal hurt worse –

No, that wasn’t true. Padme’s actions would only be considered a betrayal because she was an android. In anyone else, her turning on Xandia would be a testament to her bravery and loyalty, and perhaps that was the best way for Mace to look at it. Of course, if Padme was going to continue to exhibit complete independence from her other selves, he supposed he better have Anakin make sure she was adjusted to be completely autonomous so they would never have a repeat of all three retreating to _safe mode_ , unable to deal with the conflict of their common programming. And he’d need to make sure Padme stopped wallowing in her guilt; that she understood he forgave her and that he applauded her initiative.

Xandia’s actions, however, could not be so easily overlooked or forgiven.

Mace understood personal ambition. During his own schooling and then his entry into the ranks of Jedi, he’d had ambitions of his own, although they’d generally dovetailed nicely into what was considered the common good for the Commonwealth. Back then Mace had even come to understand some of the driving needs behind the Sith-Nietzsche. He might not have agreed with the genetic manipulation and enhancements the human off-shoots had embraced, but he’d always acknowledged certain motivations were bred into them as well as nurtured, and so dealt with them accordingly as crew and as friends.

But what Xandia had done could not be blamed solely on breeding. There came a point in everyone’s life where they needed to step outside the expectations of parents and society, where they made their own stand – made their own choices.

That Xandia would usurp his command was a given. Any daughter of a Darth would do no less. And, technically, command should have fallen to her when Mace had been stunned – at least as it pertained to repelling the raiders. Han had been too busy piloting the ship away from the rest of the Hutt’s people, and Yoda had casualties to prepare for even if he was willing to take charge, which he was not. Anakin was too young; Chewbacca too alien to have the others follow him, and turning command over to Amidala would have caused a conflict even greater than the one that had frozen both her and Padme.

Yet to learn that Xandia had set up her own protocols in the event of his incapacitation -- This was not acceptable.

That she was willing to use one that would render him and the rest of the human crew permanently incapacitated was not only a betrayal, but treasonous!

It was a damned good thing she deserted the ship before Mace had regained consciousness, before one of his guests had the opportunity to get their own hands on her. Mace imagined there was already a reckoning due from Jinn, even if she hadn’t stolen Jinn’s ship to make her escape.

Which led to yet another dilemma. His guests. Two more damn Sith-Nietzsche, both as hot-headed and arrogant as Xandia du Crion had ever been.

Mace had little problem with offering them haven until they both healed -- certainly at least until they were both out of sick bay which, according to Yoda, couldn’t come too soon. The two had pretty much saved his ship, even if they were only concerned with saving their own lives. And Mace had to admit he was getting a kick out of seeing Yoda so disconcerted; his little friend could use a little excitement and contrariness to upset his sometimes smug complacency.

Mace wasn’t really sure why Yoda hadn’t just allowed Kenobi to stay in Captain Jinn’s bed after the young Sith had snuck away from his own the first time, or after Jinn had threatened Yoda with his own gimer stick when Jinn had been chivied back to his own bed in their second attempt to stay together. It wasn’t as if the two of them were up to doing anything particularly indecent or strenuous. Or that Yoda had anything more than a clinical interest in the mating habits of humans or Nietzsche in the first place.

Nor was it Mace’s fault that Xandia had stolen their ship. Technically she’d still been a member of his crew at that time and so he might bear some sort of responsibility, but no fault. Once the repairs were done on his own ship, Mace expected to be asked to transport them to one of the more open worlds where they might find a replacement. Or begin tracking down the deceitful bitch and get theirs back.

But here he was, seriously considering asking them to stay on board. The Forces knew he needed more crew. And it looked like he and they were all going to have Hutts as well as one of the most powerful clans of Sith-Nietzsche after them.

But was _the enemy of my enemy is my friend_ good enough?

Anakin disliked them; Padme distrusted them and Solo was concerned because of Kenobi’s palpable hatred of Chewbacca. Anakin disliked most everybody he didn’t know, however, and had come around nicely to Mace himself once Han had elected to serve onboard the _Ascendant_ instead of pursuing his salvaging career. Anakin had even become fond Xandia, although not at all in the same manner that he worshipped Padme.

Mace had a teenager whiz as his chief – only – engineer. Who wanted more to be Sith than Jedi, and who was in love with an android. Could the presence of two more Sith fuck things up any more than that?

Mace’s own opinion on the two was reserved; he remained neutral because he had too few interactions to consider. Like Padme, he had an inherent distrust of any Sith, but were they really that any longer after being cast out of the Clans? He certainly could respect their abilities and appreciated that in the end, they’d put the welfare of the _Ascendant_ and its crew before their own by not stealing the Millennium Falcon to chase after Xandia when all but Yoda had been unconscious. Even Padme had remarked on her surprise at that.

So Mace had only to consider how difficult it would be for Yoda, Han and Chewbacca to accept them.

Chewbacca would accept them out of hand; he could do no less than give them the same opportunity to find a place amongst enemies that Han had given him. Which is not to say he wouldn’t turn on them or do them significant damage should they ever threaten Chewbacca’s savior. In time, Mace had no doubt that even Kenobi would come around to understand this Wookie was one of the most gentle of souls and not at all like his brethren.

Han was all about second chances himself. He’d been a soldier as well as his own captain, and preferred to be without any responsibility for others. Mace figured Han could even accept Jinn’s dominant personality much as he accepted Mace’s own, and would follow or disobey any orders as his own whims and conscience directed him, as long as they let him fly the ship. Mace expected even having Kenobi around as a back-up pilot would prove useful, for it would allow Han to regain some of the freedom to take independent assignments with the Falcon again.

So that left only Yoda, who seemed to like them both. A lot. _When seven hundred years old you reach, know you will what is important and who you can trust. Snap or foolish judgments I do not make. Need them we will._

But did Jinn and Kenobi need the _Ascendant_?

Well, Mace supposed he would that find out.

\-- Finis --


End file.
